Titleless
by Commander
Summary: Twin teenagers Philip and Amy recieve Time Squad officer training with Tuddrussel, Larry, and Otto. The catch? They're Tuddrussel's children, whom he hasn't seen in twelve years.
1. Escape

(AN: First of all, my name is Commander. And I am evil. Ha ha. Sorry, I've been in the Fairly Odd Parents section for awhile and everyone there is on a sugar high, and writes really long authors notes. Sorry. I've had this idea in my head for a long time and thought I'd get it written down before it became clichéd, which always seems to happen to me. And now for the disclaimer: I own nothing except Philip and Amy.  
  
(Philip: The way she said that, I don't even think she owns her own sanity!)  
  
I don't! Anyway, here's chapter one. If anyone has an idea for the title of this story, please let me know!)  
  
Now, some stereotypes are untrue. In fact, lots are. And even the ones that turn out to be true aren't always true.  
  
Unfortunately for the inhabitants of the Wilson Home for Orphans, the stereotype of a grim, grisly orphanage proved to be entirely true. It was on the planet Earth, which by the year 100,000,000 was almost one big city, hardly even separated by the oceans anymore, which were being built over. It was where New York City once was, which had now become the gang-ridden, dirty , most populated place on the city of planet Earth.  
  
It was also dangerous. Construction was going on nearly all the time, and when the children managed to get out from their "You are the types of people that make our society TERRIBLE!" lectures from Miss Wilson herself, they were often putting their own lives at risk. The concrete "backyard", smaller than the orphanage itself and surrounded on three sides by chain-link fences, was often used as a dumping ground for heavy machinery.  
  
A group of girls, who had somehow managed to get dolls, even though Miss Wilson forbade the ownership of toys, were once sitting right where an I-beam was about to be dropped. And, although on the other side of the "yard" and not even looking in that direction, Philip Tuddrussel suddenly pushed the girls out of the way, milliseconds before the beam came crashing down.  
  
He had his reasons, of course. One of the girls there had been his twin sister, Amy Tuddrussel. Philip and Amy sometimes like to take pride in the fact that they were not orphans-at least, as far as they knew-and were thus not the wastes of society that Miss Wilson liked to call them. But ever since their parents divorced when the twins were five, and their mother, who after winning legal custody of her children suddenly decided she didn't want them anymore and dumped them in the orphanage, the only family the twins really had were each other. Their parents hadn't bothered to keep in contact with them.  
  
So of course, ever since Philip and Amy had first come to that terrible place, they had always looked forward to the day when they could, just maybe, get out of there.  
  
***  
  
The secretary peered over her glasses at the young man standing at her desk. "Have you come to register?" she asked him.  
  
"Yes, for both me and my sister," said Philip Tuddrussel, handing over his records. Phony records. For one thing, the records stated that the twins were eighteen, when in fact they were only seventeen. But they had grown tired of waiting.  
  
Philip wasn't the little boy that he once was. He was now tall and lanky, yet still strong looking, with muscular arms and legs. His black hair had an unkempt look to it like it always did, and his black eyes had a spark of intelligence. Philip WAS intelligent. He could hold his own in almost any situation, but he sometimes drifted over to a somewhat silly side, something his sister almost never did.  
  
The secretary flipped through his fake records. "So you're from the Wilson Home for Orphans, hmm?" she said to herself. "You've got the signature from the owner of the place, that's good."  
  
Philip had to stop himself from laughing. Of course Miss Wilson hadn't signed it. She probably wouldn't let them go to any type of college, even if they were of legal age. Philip had forged it-and done a pretty good job of it, too.  
  
"Well, I guess we'll accept you and your sister," said the secretary. "Here's two dorm keys, you can move in tonight."  
  
"Thanks," said Philip, grinning almost insanely since he was finally out of that orphanage, "but it won't be till tomorrow night. I've gotta go get my sister."  
  
"All right, see you tomorrow," said the secretary.  
  
Philip ambled out of the law enforcement college at which he had just enrolled at. When Philip and Amy both realized that they want a job in law enforcement, they decided that the sooner they got out so they could go together, the better. Philip went into a library and went near the back, knowing what would happen in anyone from the orphanage saw him.  
  
Together. Philip and Amy had gone through a lot together, and they had never wanted to be separated. Philip sighed, remembering a few times when someone had wanted to adopt him, or adopt Amy, but the twins insisted that if their twin stayed, they stayed too. He sighed and grabbed a book, attempting to get into it. But he just couldn't seem to concentrate on it. He knew that he couldn't get Amy till late at night, and he'd have to do it carefully. It was hard enough for just him to escape.  
  
***  
  
"Alright, you worthless trash, time for supper! Not that you deserve it!"  
  
Miss Wilson's sharp call snapped Amy out of her nap. Rubbing her eyes open, she stood up and went to the dinning room, feeling her stomach churn. Maybe it was the thought of the cold oatmeal which they would be having, but it was more likely that it was she knew that Miss Wilson would notice that Philip wasn't there. ~I hope he got us into that college,~ she thought as she sat down. ~I don't think I can take much more of this.~  
  
Amy also wasn't a little girl anymore. She was tall and slender, with long, thick black hair that bounced off her shoulders and tumbled onto her back. She, like Philip, had intelligent black eyes, which often looked cold and aloof. Which stood to reason, because the two best words to describe Amy Tuddrussel WERE cold and aloof.   
  
Miss Wilson stared at all the orphans, who were all ages, sit down. She suddenly glared at an empty chair. "Where's Tuddrussel?" she hissed. She turned to Amy. "Where is he?"  
  
Amy fixed her cold stare on Miss Wilson. "I don't know. Am I my brother's keeper?"  
  
Miss Wilson shook with barely contained rage. Grabbing Amy by the ears, she pulled her to her room, slammed the door, and locked it. "No supper for you!" she snapped. "And once I find your brother, both of you will be in soooooo much trouble…"  
  
Amy listened to her footsteps grow fainter as she went back to the dinning room. Sighing, she lay on the bed, muttering, "It's eating that crap that's torture, not being refrained from eating it."  
  
Her thoughts drifted towards her past, like they always did. Amy's brow crinkled as she tried to remember her parents faces, their voices, what their jobs where. Amy did remember that they had the same job, but she couldn't remember what that was.  
  
Suddenly her parent's voices seemed to fill up her thoughts…  
  
"…look at this mess the kids made! Buck, you should've been watching them!"  
  
"Sheila, hello, I was working! YOU'RE the one who started working part time so you could watch them!"  
  
Amy flipped over onto her stomach. "From what I remember about Mom, I'm a lot like her," she said to herself. "And Dad? He was kinda weird… and a lot of fun."  
  
She winced, the few memories of good times with her parents creeping into her thoughts. She could remember a picnic, her mother feeding her applesauce, her father roughhousing with her and Philip…  
  
It was with these thoughts in her head that she fell into a fitful sleep.  
  
***  
  
Amy awoke to a tapping on her window. Rolling out of bed, she saw Philip was there. She quickly opened the window.  
  
"Philip! Did you get us in?" she whispered.  
  
"Yep, now come on while we still can!" he whispered back. Amy crawled out of the window and crouched next to Philip.  
  
"Come on," said Philip, crawling towards the front of the building. "And be quiet. You know what a light sleeper Miss Wilson is."  
  
"Remember when we were thirteen and tried to run away, but she caught us?"  
  
Philip grimaced at Amy. "Remember? We were stuck in the basement for a week after that!"  
  
"No, it was YOU in the basement. I was stuck in the attic."  
  
"Oh, right," said Philip. He quietly climbed over the fence, with Amy following. Once they were over it and on the sidewalk in the front of the orphanage, he whispered to his sister, "We'll walk down that way a block, then start jogging. I've got the keys to our dorm."  
  
"We have a dorm already?" said Amy, with one of her rare smiles. "We'll finally have a decent bed!"  
  
"Maybe we'll actually get decent clothes," said Philip, looking at his grubby white T-shirt and frayed jeans. Amy looked at her frayed jeans and old, button-down shirt.  
  
They were at the end of the block. "Okay, let's run!" said Philip. The twins ran as fast as they could away from what had been their prison for the last twelve years.  
  
(AN: Chapter one is over with! Sorry if it's kinda short. And if you think it's long, sorry that it's kinda long. Again, if you have any ideas for the title of this, please let me know! The only thing I can think of is "The Tuddrussel Twins" and that's boring. Please review. I don't mind constructive criticism. I shall update soon!) 


	2. That's Shocking

(AN: Sorry I haven't updated in awhile. I've been busy, and… yeah. I only have one reviewer though, so I'm not leaving too many people hanging! Anyway, here's chapter two!)  
  
The twins learned of a "special" offer that allowed them to train with Time Squad officers—sort of on-the-job training. Philip and Amy hadn't planned on becoming Time Squad officers, but they wanted to get as far as they could from Miss Wilson. Besides, once they finished their training, they could always go on to something else.  
  
At least, that's what Amy was trying to tell Philip.  
  
"Why would we want to be Time Squad officers?" he complained. "I mean, it's all stuff that happened in the past!"  
  
"Will you be quiet about it if I give you a Tootsie Pop?" asked Amy, pulling a sucker out of her pocket.  
  
Philip's eyes lit up. "Deal!" he cried, grabbing the Tootsie Pop and licking it.  
  
Amy grinned, knowing how enthusiastic Philip got about his one big obsession. "So how many licks DOES it take to get to the Tootsie Roll center of a Tootsie Pop?" she asked him.  
  
"It depends on how big your licks are," said Philip. "Are you looking through that book yet?"  
  
"Yeah, just calm down, Phil," Amy muttered. "There's a lot of people in here. I'm marking the ones with the best records--"  
  
Amy suddenly stopped and stared at the book. Philip turned over to look at her. "What is it, Aim?" he asked.  
  
"I wonder…" Amy flipped through some pages and ran her finger down the names. She stopped suddenly and bit her lip, realization hitting her.  
  
"What is it?" cried Philip.  
  
Amy turned to look at her brother. "You know how we thought it was weird how we both were interested in the same job?"  
  
"Yeah…?" said Philip.  
  
"Well, it looks as though it's hereditary."  
  
Philip stared. Amy sighed, and, since she wasn't sure if Philip understood her, explained, "Both Mom and Dad are in here."  
  
Philip continued to stare. Amy looked at the book, and a strange smile crept up on her face. Philip understood.  
  
"Oh no!" he cried. "We are NOT going to get training from our parents!"  
  
"Why not?" asked Amy. "We should remind them that they actually do have kids. If we want to keep in touch with them, it looks as though we'll have to do it ourselves."  
  
Philip sighed. "I guess you have a point."  
  
"Of course I do. But which one do you think we should go with, Mom or Dad?"  
  
"I say Dad," said Philip instantly.  
  
Amy peered at Philip. "Okay… out of curiosity, why do you say that?"  
  
Philip shrugged. "Dad didn't really do anything wrong. All he did was not win legal custody of us. True, he didn't keep in contact with us, but what if he tried to? At least he didn't dump us in an orphanage like Mom did. So yeah, that's why I'd say we should go with Dad."  
  
"Okay," said Amy slowly. "You've got a point there too, but according to this, Dad's had a lot of mishaps…"  
  
"He needs our help!" said Philip. Amy laughed, which sounded strange coming from her normally stern self.  
  
"Okay. Dad it is, then!"  
  
***  
  
After managing to convince their teachers to get training from their father, Philip and Amy were sent to their dad's spacecraft… thing. Amy looked around. "Nice place, I guess…"  
  
"Is anyone here? Hey Dad--"  
  
"Don't say that!" cried Amy. Philip stared at her. "Sorry," said Amy, "but I want to see if Dad recognizes us. WITHOUT our help."  
  
"Right," said Philip. He tried again. "Officer Tuddrussel?"  
  
Nothing.  
  
"They must be on a mission," said Amy. "Come on, let's look around!"  
  
"But let's leave this here, so they know we're here," said Philip, setting down the sheet that said "congrats, students have chosen you to be their trainers" or something to that effect, and the two kids went off to explore their dad's home.  
  
***  
  
Soon afterwards, Tuddrussel, Larry, and Otto returned from their mission. "Mission accomplished!" said Larry happily.  
  
"Yeah, it's a good thing we talked Ulysses S. Grant to become a general and not a chef, otherwise the Civil War might've turned out way different!" said Otto.  
  
"Yeah, yeah—hey, what's this?" asked Tuddrussel, looking at the note Philip and Amy had left.  
  
Larry picked it up. " 'Congratulations, two college students are going to start training with you'?"  
  
"Training?" asked Otto. "I didn't know about training!"  
  
"Oh, it exists, alright," said Larry. "But no one's ever trained with us, and with good reason! They get to see our records and ours are always… less than stellar!"  
  
"Well… maybe we should go find them and welcome them to our happy family!" said Otto, a big, almost fake-looking smile on his face.  
  
A laser shot echoed throughout the ship. Tuddrussel fumed. "And maybe we'd better pulverize them for going in my arsenal!!!!!"  
  
Tuddrussel ran off towards his arsenal, with Otto and Larry not far behind. He quickly tore open the door, to find…  
  
Amy tumbled over some boxes and landed on her back, looking up at the newcomers. "Oh, hi," she said, quickly standing up. She and Philip had been playfighting and she had to quickly compose herself.  
  
Larry and Otto both stared at the same girl, wondering exactly what she was up to. Amy walked up to them and gave them a cold stare. "So, I get stuck with you guys?" she asked.   
  
Larry gave Amy an odd look. "Why did you come here when you saw our records?" he asked.  
  
"Very good question," said Amy. She turned and looked at Tuddrussel, who was staring at her as though he almost knew her. "Maybe I'll graduate early," she said, looking at him.  
  
Tuddrussel finally spoke. "…Amy?" he asked in astonishment.  
  
Amy grinned. "I was wondering if you'd recognize me."  
  
"Hey!" cried Philip, popping up from nowhere. "Remember me?"  
  
"Philip!" cried Tuddrussel.  
  
"Wait a minute!" cried Larry. "You know these people?"  
  
"There's a reason we chose to train with Officer Tuddrussel, despite his records," said Amy. "He's our father."  
  
Larry and Otto stared.  
  
Amy finally extended her hand. "Amy Tuddrussel," she said, "but I bet you already figured that out."  
  
"I'm Philip Tuddrussel," said Philip, nodding towards them.  
  
"Tuddrussel!" Larry finally cried. "You never told me you had children!"  
  
"Well, there was never an opportunity to bring it up! 'Hey Larry, guess what, I have twin kids somewhere.' It just doesn't fit in with anything we've talked about!" cried Tuddrussel. He turned to his children. "I thought you were with your mother!"  
  
"Don't get us started on Mom!" cried Philip.  
  
"We WERE with Mom," explained Amy, "but after a few weeks with us she decided she was sick of us, dumped us in a terrible orphanage, and never bother to keep in contact with us."  
  
"You're from an orphanage?" cried Otto. "I know how that goes."  
  
"Was yours terrible beyond all imagination?" asked Philip.  
  
Otto nodded. "Oh yeah."  
  
"So was ours," said Philip with a sigh.  
  
Otto then turned to Tuddrussel. "You know, Tuddrussel, I never pictured you as the father type!"  
  
"Oh, just be quiet," muttered Tuddrussel.  
  
"I'm hungry!" cried Philip suddenly.  
  
"Oooh! Let me go cook something!" cried Larry.  
  
Amy smiled. "And I'll help!"  
  
Tuddrussel grimaced. "My daughter likes to cook? Oh the shame…"  
  
(AN: Sorry that sucked. Again. Anyway, chapter three is up next, hopefully sooner than chapter two was!) 


	3. Not Much

(AN: So sorry again for not updating. I've been busy… I've had writer's block… and I've been spending all my online time on deviantart.com. But you may be interested in this-- http://www.deviantart.com/view/4629784/ . Philip and Amy are in there somewhere, amongst all those FOP fanchars. And I'm in there too. Don't laugh, I never said I was a good artist! Anyway… here's chapter 3!)  
  
"Idiots," muttered Amy as she watched Philip and Buck getting into an argument over who could kick who's butt.   
  
Her brother and father stared at her. "Why do you say we're idiots?" asked Philip.  
  
"Takes one to know one!" cried Tuddrussel in a very childish way.  
  
"Kicking each other's butts it completely pointless. As if either of you would get into a fight. But if you really want to see who would win, why don't you fight each other right now?" With that, Amy turned towards the door.  
  
"Where are you going?" asked Philip.  
  
"To unpack," said Amy simply. "Is there a spare room anywhere, Dad?"  
  
"Over there," said Tuddrussel, pointing down a hall. Amy left and Philip followed.  
  
Otto, who had seen the whole thing, asked, "Uh, Tuddrussel? Are you feeling okay?"  
  
"No!" cried Tuddrussel suddenly. Otto jumped. "I don't wanna have to be responsible for my kids! That's why I didn't want legal custody of them!"  
  
Otto blinked. "But… you do love them, don't you? I mean, they are your kids!"  
  
"That doesn't mean anything," muttered Tuddrussel. "I just re-met them two hours ago and they're too much like their mother for me to like. Especially Amy."  
  
Otto looked confused. "But Tuddrussel… you must've liked… her… at some point in time. I mean, you married her, didn't you?"  
  
"Yes, but… you wouldn't understand."  
  
A grin crept up on Otto's face. "Because you don't understand?"  
  
"That is correct--HEY!"   
  
***  
  
"So, what do you think of this place?" Philip asked Amy. He had already unpacked but Amy, being a girl, had way more stuff. (Not to be sexist or anything—hey, I'm a girl! It's just the way things go!)  
  
"Well, the robot's a good cook," admitted Amy. "He can teach me a lot, although he seems really prissy…"  
  
"That kid seems pretty fun," said Philip with a smile. "I would whoop his butt anytime."  
  
"And Dad's just how I remember him," sighed Amy. She pulled out a box. "What's this?"  
  
"Oh, random stuff of mine," said Philip. "I couldn't fit it all in my bag." He opened the box and started going through it. "Paper clips, a spoon, a hairless rodent…" (AN: Sorry, couldn't resist.)  
  
Amy rolled her eyes and continued unpacking.  
  
***  
  
Tuddrussel was still chasing Otto, and the chase ended in the library, where Larry was reading a book on some intellectual subject. "TUDDRUSSEL!" cried Larry, but it was different from the way he usually yelled at him. He sounded ecstatic.  
  
"Tuddrussel, your daughter is FANTASTIC!" he cried. Both Tuddrussel and Otto stared at Larry's strange joy coming at them in leaps and bounds. "Her tastes in cuisine are exquisite! And she is so cultured! She knows all about the great artists and writers and musicians… are you sure she's your daughter?"  
  
Tuddrussel and Otto blinked. Finally, Tuddrussel said, "Not entirely…"  
  
"She is a lot like Sheila though," pointed out Otto.  
  
"Don't mention that name in my presence!" cried Tuddrussel.  
  
Amy and Philip walked in the room. "There you are," said Amy curtly. "I heard you yelling, Dad. Anyway, we need you to tell us where the nearest shopping mall is."  
  
Tuddrussel rolled his eyes. "Why do you want to go to a shopping mall?"  
  
Amy pointed at her old fashioned, worn out clothes. "Duh. I need new clothes."  
  
"I'm not much of a shopper, but I must admit that I, too, could use a little help in the clothing department."  
  
"We'll need money too," added Amy.  
  
"And we want to go tomorrow," finished Philip.  
  
Silence.  
  
"We also can't drive the hovercrafts," added Philip, "so someone has to go with us…"  
  
"You go!" cried Tuddrussel, pointing at Larry.  
  
"I can't!" cried Larry. "I'd like too, of course, it would be such a pleasure shopping with you, Amy, but I need to clean the spacecraft tomorrow! I've been putting it off for far too long!"  
  
Amy gave Tuddrussel one of her rare grins. "I guess that makes it a father-son-daughter moment, doesn't it?"  
  
Tuddrussel, as his thoughts drifted towards the chaos of shopping, fainted.  
  
(AN: Sorry it was short. My writer's block will not allow for me to write anymore. See you later… hopefully…) 


	4. Shopping

(AN: Sorry for the wait. Again. I kinda have writer's block. But here is the chapter anyway. (trumpet fanfare))  
  
"Which one do you think I should get?" Amy asked, holding up two similar looking shirts.  
  
Buck and Philip, who were bogged down with about seven shopping bags each, gave each other exasperated sighs. "Uh… aren't they exactly the same?" Tuddrussel asked.  
  
"Of course not," said Amy. "This one has a different color, and is a slightly darker shade than this one."  
  
"Alright, so they're different," said Philip. "But don't you think you have enough clothes now anyway?"  
  
Amy stared at him. "Um… no," she finally said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.  
  
"And why do we have to hold YOUR bags?" complained her father.  
  
"If you're not going to shop, then you're going to hold the bags," said Amy, turning to rummage through some more clothes. "It's the natural way of things."  
  
"But some of these clothes are mine!" cried Philip. "If what you said is true, then why do I have to hold the bags?"  
  
Amy rolled her eyes. "Only one of the bags is yours. That doesn't count."  
  
"You said we could go to the ammo store!" complained Buck. "And I'm hungry! Are we almost done in here?"  
  
Amy sighed. She was trying to remind herself that her father was, mentally, about six years old. "I'm almost done, I just have to decide which one I want, since you two aren't any help. Let's see… I can't decide. I'll just buy them both."  
  
Buck winced, looking at all the other stuff that he had had to buy for Amy. "There goes my life savings."  
  
"Come on, Dad," said Amy, grabbing her father by the arm and dragging him towards the cash register. "Whip out that credit card… again."  
  
Philip grinned to himself, deciding that this would be the perfect time to sneak out unnoticed. He tiptoed as quietly as he could to the door, still holding all the bags.  
  
"Oh Phil?"  
  
Philip spun around. Amy gave him one of her strange smiles. "Just where do you think you're going?"  
  
"But… but…" stammered Philip. "How did you know I was leaving? You weren't even looking this way!"  
  
"Those are my bags you're holding," said Amy, sounding as if she was talking to a three-year-old. "I can tell when my stuff is about to disappear."  
  
"I'll never understand girls," moaned Philip.  
  
"Me neither," said Buck, who was paying for the two shirts plus everything else Amy had bought in that store.   
  
"That'll be $458.27," said the cashier.  
  
"WHAT?" cried Buck. The cashier didn't answer. She just snatched the credit card out of Buck's hands.  
  
Amy grinned. "Wow, I was thinking it would be more than that. This store has really good values."  
  
The clothes were bagged and the three left the store. "Alright, I have had it!" cried Buck angrily. "I think you've bought enough clothes, young lady, and… I'm not buying you any more!"  
  
"What if I told you I had $500 in my pocket?" asked Amy.  
  
Buck's jaw dropped.  
  
"Not that I do," said Amy, and she actually laughed a bit.  
  
Buck stammered a little before he answered. "Well, even if you did, I wouldn't let you."  
  
"You couldn't stop me," snapped Amy.  
  
"Don't sass me! And of course I could, I'm your dad!"  
  
"Oh, right, I forgot," said Amy.  
  
Philip stared at her. "You forgot that he's our DAD?"  
  
"Oh look, we're at the food court," said Amy suddenly. "Where do you--"  
  
Before Amy could finish, her father and brother were already in one of the lines. Amy shook her head in disbelief. "Men."  
  
***  
  
"Stop fooling around and give me my food," said Amy. She, Philip, and Buck were at a table, and Philip was holding the tray, with a smile on his face as malicious as his father's.  
  
"Not until you say it," said Philip.  
  
Amy's eyes grew wide. "Come on, you guys, I'm just as hungry as you are…"  
  
"So if you want your food, then say it!" said Buck with a laugh.  
  
"Oh, alright," said Amy. "It."  
  
"You know what we mean," said Philip. "And we won't give you your food until you say what we told you to say before!"  
  
Amy trembled as she looked at them, with realization that they wouldn't relent. "FINE!" she cried. "I promise not to go to anymore clothing stores! Now can I have my food?"  
  
"Of course," said Philip, setting the tray down. He and Buck exchanged a high-five.  
  
"Stop gloating," muttered Amy, biting into her cheeseburger.  
  
Buck laughed again. "You know son, I hate to gloat, but wasn't that a great plan of mine?"  
  
"Excuse me?" Philip asked, raising his eyebrow. "I believe it was MY plan, thank you very much."  
  
Buck grabbed a French fry and pointed it towards Philip like a gun. "You'd better take that back!"  
  
Philip pulled the straw out of his drink and brandished it like a sword. "On guard!"  
  
"Honestly, you two, grow up," said Amy, rolling her eyes to the other direction. Her face fell like a stone. "Oh no."  
  
"What is it?" asked Philip.  
  
"It's Miss Wilson," said Amy quickly, scrunching down in her seat as to not be seen. "Did you think that she ever shopped here?"  
  
"I thought she never left the orphanage!" cried Philip, sounding panicked. He dived under the table, with Amy soon following.  
  
"Who are you talking about?" asked Buck.  
  
"The lady who ran our orphanage," said Amy.  
  
"And she hates our guts," added Philip.  
  
"She's got about the same charm as slime," Amy said.  
  
"And no one wants to be within one thousand yards of her hellhole," said Philip.  
  
"She's about as likable as a mutant food pellet."  
  
"She deserves to rot like an oversized sponge."  
  
"You might want to shut up," hissed Buck, "because she's coming this way."  
  
Miss Wilson walked by, saw Buck, and sniffed haughtily. "Trash of society," she hissed.  
  
"Ooooh, that does it, she's going down," growled Buck. Philip and Amy desperately tried to grab his legs and stop him, but it was too late.  
  
Buck pulled out his laser gun and pointed it in Miss Wilson's face. "No one insults me and comes out of it alive!" he roared.  
  
Miss Wilson glared at him. "Just because you're a law enforcement officer doesn't mean you can get your way all the time, especially if you're an idiotic hippopotamus."  
  
Amy, still under the table, winced. "Should we let our dad get thrashed by Wilson, or risk our freedom and try to save him?"  
  
"Well…" Philip thought for a moment. "Since we're with a law enforcement officer, Dad could vouch for us and say that we're here perfectly legally."  
  
"Unless he has a stupid moment on us," muttered Amy.  
  
"Right," said Philip. "But… "  
  
Amy grinned. "Let's do it."  
  
The twins crawled out from underneath the table, and Philip stood between the steaming Buck and Miss Wilson. "Miss Wilson, I would really appreciate it if you didn't get in a fight with this officer."  
  
"Tuddrussel?" snapped Wilson in shock. "What the hell are you doing here?" She grabbed him by the ears. "You're going back to the orphanage, and I'm gonna whip you for five days straight!"  
  
"Excuse me," said Amy, making her presence known, "but I believe this officer can say that we are here perfectly legally." She jabbed her father lightly in the ribs. "Officer, do you have our papers?"  
  
"Uh… yeah," said Buck, sounding confused but pulling them out of his pocket. Amy handed them to Miss Wilson.   
  
"You see," Amy explained, "we are with this Time Squad officer for training."  
  
"But you're only seventeen!" snapped Wilson.  
  
"No, we're eighteen, see?" said Amy, pointing to the papers.  
  
Buck, in confusion, opened his mouth to speak. Amy urgently put a finger to her lips to silence him.  
  
"Hmm… I could've SWORN you were born… a year after what this paper says." Miss Wilson glared angrily at Amy, and tightened her grip on Philip's ear. "Eighteen or not, it is a crime to run away from the orphanage!"  
  
Buck suddenly stepped in, to Philip and Amy's surprise. "Not as big of a crime that I could probably write up for you," he said.  
  
"Like what?" asked Wilson scornfully.  
  
"For one thing," said Buck, "just a few minutes ago you threatened to, hmm, what was it? Oh yeah. You threatened to whip my son for five days straight."  
  
"Your… WHAT?" cried Wilson.  
  
Amy smiled innocently and shrugged. "Oops, silly me. I forgot to mention that Officer Tuddrussel is our father."  
  
Buck pulled out his little legal pad of paper thing. "And from other things I've heard from my son and daughter, you could wind up in jail for at least ten years--"  
  
Miss Wilson let go of Philip and zoomed off as fast as she could.  
  
Amy and Buck laughed happily. Philip rubbed his ear in anguish.  
  
"You're just going to let her run away?" he cried. "Do you realize what all she's done to me and Amy? And everyone else in that awful orphanage?"  
  
Buck shrugged. "Hey, you two can tell me her full name and the address of the orphanage. I can just give those to the law enforcement officers on Earth and they can take it from there."  
  
Amy grinned. "And justice is served. Come on, let's go that that clothes store."  
  
"REMEMBER WHAT YOU PROMISED?" cried Buck and Philip.  
  
"Oh fine," said Amy grudgingly.  
  
(AN: This isn't the end, but I know it kinda sounds like it. You didn't think I would end it without a mission, did you? Or without the twins meeting their mother? No, not at all! Again, I'm sorry for not updating sooner. Tuddrussel is really heard to write in character… Anyway, see you at chapter five!) 


	5. A is for Amy

(AN: It's been forever since I've seen a Time Squad episode, so I haven't been feeling very inspired. And of course, being extremely busy and having writer's block doesn't help. But you should know all that by now. (laughs) Enjoy chapter five!)  
  
"Whoa… didja buy enough clothes?"  
  
Amy glared at Otto. "You know, I've been through this with my father and my brother. No, I did not?"  
  
Otto stared at the large pile of clothes that Amy had dumped on her bed. "Whatever you say."  
  
He watched Amy gracefully fold her clothes. "So, what are missions like on this Time Squad deal, anyway?" she asked.  
  
"Well…" Otto hesitated for a moment. "With your dad along, we sometimes get in a lot of trouble."  
  
Amy laughed, which surprised Otto. "I believe it."  
  
"You're not… offended?"  
  
"I know my dad is an idiot," said Amy, still chuckling.  
  
Otto still looked surprised. "But you are related to him."  
  
"Well, duh, I know that. But from what I've been told, and from what I remember, I'm more like my mom."  
  
"God help you," muttered Otto.  
  
"You've met my mom?" Amy suddenly cried out, grabbing Otto by the shoulders.  
  
"Uh… yeah. She's real… driven by her work, I guess you could say. I don't think she ever has fun, and she hardly ever smiles."  
  
Amy let go of Otto and continued putting her clothes away, her black eyes growing tired and sad. "If you haven't noticed, I don't smile much either. Neither does Philip."  
  
"Philip smiles sometimes," pointed out Otto. "More than you, anyway."  
  
"Phil's a lot like Mom too," said Amy. "But he has his Dad moments."  
  
The two remained silent for a while. Finally, Otto asked, "Why don't you ever smile?"  
  
Amy shrugged, the emotional outburst gone. "My orphanage was a living hell."  
  
Otto sat next to Amy on her bed, putting his arm around her shoulders. "So was mine, but I smile!"  
  
"How long were you at your orphanage?" snapped Amy. "Philip and I were there for twelve years. You haven't even been AROUND for twelve years!"  
  
"But--" Otto started to say.  
  
"But nothing." Amy stood up and huffed out of her room, turning around just once to see Otto's large eyes behind his glasses gaze sadly at her.  
  
A little ways down the hallway, Amy gasped in shock and realization. "Holy crap! That little kid has a crush on me!"  
  
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!  
  
"A mission!" cried Otto, tearing out of Amy's room.  
  
"Where do we go?" asked Amy.  
  
"Follow me!" said Otto. He lead Amy to a room filled with large computer and television screens. Larry was typing up something.  
  
"They never give us a moment's rest," the robot lamented sadly. "I was planning to plant some impatiens in the garden today too!"  
  
"You can do it later, Larry," said Otto reassuringly.  
  
Buck burst into the room, yelling, "So what's the mission? I'm ready, after surviving Amy's shopping."  
  
Philip was right behind, looking very much like a slightly smaller version of his father. "Yeah, any historical mission should be easy compared to that."  
  
"Ha ha," said Amy sarcastically.  
  
On the largest screen, there finally showed a picture of a nineteenth century man, with "Nathaniel Hawthorne, Massachusetts, 1848" next him.  
  
"Nathaniel who?" asked Buck in confusion.  
  
"Nathaniel Hawthorne, of course!" said Otto, who of course knew who he was. "He was--"  
  
"Wait!" cried Larry. "I actually know, for once, so may I please tell?"  
  
Otto shrugged. "I guess it's alright. I'll be explaining all the other times, I might as well give myself a break."  
  
Larry, looking very pleased at temporarily playing Otto's role, said in a distinguished tone, "Nathaniel Hawthorne was the author of the classic novel The Scarlet Letter, which explores human sin and repentance."  
  
"Oh," said Buck and Philip blankly.  
  
"Honestly," said Amy hopelessly, "you two men should read more."  
  
"I wonder what he's doing that doesn't agree with history," wondered Otto.  
  
"Well," said Larry briskly, "I wouldn't suggest just standing here idly. We'd better go find out."  
  
The five stood on the transporting platform. "This will be fun!" exclaimed Philip. "I've always wanted to get transported one hundred million years in the past!"  
  
"Since when?" muttered Amy.  
  
"It's gonna be a looonng mission," moaned Larry, punching some buttons and zapping them out of sight.  
  
***  
  
Philip looked around. "So this is Massachusetts in 1848? It's kinda dull, isn't it?"  
  
Amy chose to ignore her brother. "So what exactly do we do on our missions? I mean, why are visiting Hawthorne?"  
  
"Well," said Larry, "since we were sent here, Hawthorne apparently isn't doing something that he should be, or maybe he is doing something that he shouldn't. Either way, we have to find him and set him straight with history."  
  
"But how are we going to find him?" asked Philip. "This town doesn't look terribly large, but we hardly even know what he looks like."  
  
Buck pointed to a large building. "Maybe we could try in there--'Hawthorne's Writing and Publishing Company'."  
  
Amy nodded. "That would be a good idea."  
  
Otto bit his lip in confusion. "Writing and publishing? He's obviously in the right career. I wonder what he's doing wrong?"  
  
"Well, we're gonna find out!" cried Buck. He barged into the building, pointed a blaster at a man sitting at a desk right inside the door, and bellowed, "Take me to your leader!"  
  
The man stared.  
  
The others had managed to catch up. "What he means," said Otto, "is that we're trying to find a Mr. Nathaniel Hawthorne. Is he your boss?"  
  
The man trembled, and finally stammered out, "I-I'm Nathaniel H-Hawthorne. But please don't harm me!"  
  
Larry pulled Buck's blaster down. "Geez, he seems like a bigger wimp than you are, Lar."  
  
Otto looked at Hawthorne curiously. "Mr. Hawthorne, why are you sitting at the secretary's desk? Aren't you a writer?"  
  
~That could be our problem,~ thought Amy.  
  
Hawthorne looked a little angry and humiliated. "Of course I'm a writer!"  
  
~Maybe not,~ thought Amy.  
  
Philip spoke up. "Then how come you're your own secretary?"  
  
Hawthorne sighed sadly. "I can't get anyone to work for me. To tell you the truth, business has been bad lately. No one wants to work for someone who can't pay them!"  
  
"Why can't you work for yourself?" asked Amy. "You're a writer. Can't you write the material, and… set the type and print it yourself?"  
  
"Well, I could," admitted Hawthorne, "if my dream wasn't so big!"  
  
Buck rolled his eyes. "And just what do you mean by that?"  
  
Hawthorne leaped up on his desk, his eyes glowing with excitement. "I've always dreamt of writing a best selling…"  
  
Everyone waited expectantly.  
  
"…COOKBOOK!"  
  
Silence.  
  
"Cookbook?" Otto finally asked.  
  
"That's right!" said Hawthorne happily. His face fell. "I've never exactly been the best cook…but it's a good thing I have all my grandmother's recipes in the attic! Come and see them!"  
  
Hawthorne led them up the stairs. "Why do you want to write a cookbook if you can't cook?" Larry asked.  
  
"I want to help people," said Hawthorne, his eyes glowing again. "Think of all the bellies I could fill with these wonderful recipes!"  
  
"Some people are destined to write cookbooks, but not you!" said Otto. "You're destined to fill peoples' MINDS. You're destined to change the way people think. You're destined to write a great American novel!"  
  
"That doesn't sound too bad," admitted Hawthorne, "…but I'd rather write a cookbook." They were at the attic now. Hawthorne opened the door on the ceiling and climbed up the ladder. "This building has been in the family for years," he said. "My grandmother stored all of her possessions up here. And there's a lot more up here too. This building was built in 1678, you know."  
  
The six managed to get into the attic and look around at all the things stored. "Wow," said Philip. "Just think of bringing little kids up here. They'd have a blast!"  
  
Hawthorne began rummaging through some boxes. "I know the recipes are here somewhere…"  
  
Ignoring Hawthorne for awhile, the other five began browsing as well. Philip climbed up to the top of one of the shelves. "There a really old looking box up here," he said. "Catch, Amy!" He dropped a rather small box to the ground. Amy caught it and opened it.  
  
Inside was some old parchment with what looked like a short story written on it, and an embroidered letter A. It was bright red, with beautiful exquisite embroidery along the sides. Even in the rather dark attic, the letter shined.  
  
Philip leaped off the shelf. "Hey, it's an A for Amy!" he said.  
  
Larry and Otto stared at the A. "The Scarlet Letter," they both breathed in awe.  
  
Hawthorne, noticing the commotion, picked up the paper and unfolded it. "Here follows the account of Hester Prynne…" His voice trailed off.  
  
Buck was rather unimpressed, and Larry and Otto were still in awe, understanding the letter's significance. Philip had no clue, however. He pinned the letter on Amy's breast. "There you go, Amy. Now everyone knows what letter your name starts with!"  
  
"Oh joy," muttered Amy.  
  
"…thus her punishment was to wear the scarlet letter A on her breast for the rest of her life." Hawthorne looked up at Amy, who was wearing the letter and standing in the beam of light coming in from the window, looking haughty and indifferent. "Wow," he whispered. "That must be just how Hester Prynne looked…"  
  
No one said anything for a while. Finally Hawthorne grabbed the letter off of Amy. "I think," he said, "that I would much rather write a story about Hester Prynne than a cookbook."  
  
Larry grinned. "Mission accomplished."  
  
Philip looked confused. "What? Already? But we didn't even do anything!"  
  
Otto laughed. "You did more than you know, Philip. If you hadn't have found that letter, Hawthorne would be still wanting to write a cookbook!"  
  
Buck looked a little disappointed too, since there hadn't been any fighting. "Whatever. Can we go home now?"  
  
"Certainly," said Larry, opening the panel on his arm and pushing in buttons.  
  
"You know, Philip, I actually HAVE read The Scarlet Letter," said Amy to her brother. "And the A doesn't stand for Amy. It stands for Adultery."  
  
"Whoa, really?" cried Philip. "I ought to read that book!"  
  
The five were zapped back to their own time period.  
  
(AN: Once again, that was not the end. Heh. Thanks for reading and reviewing, see you next chapter, and apologizes to Nathaniel Hawthorne.) 


	6. Hello, Mother

(AN: Sorry for the wait… again… I sound like a broken record…)  
  
"Dear Philip and Amy Tuddrussel, while you both have been improving greatly as future Time Squad officers, you have not participated in enough missions to graduate yet… What? What kind of crap is this?"  
  
Amy sighed. "Well, Phil, obviously we have to work on more missions before we can become fully qualified Time Squad officers."  
  
"But we've already been on twenty-four missions!" cried Philip, throwing the letter behind him. "I mean, come on! We're almost eighteen!"  
  
"You mean, we're almost here legally?" said Amy with a dry laugh.  
  
Philip shrugged. "I thought it would have been kinda cool to have been fully-fledged TS officers when we were only seventeen."  
  
"Oh, what a privilege," muttered Amy. "Look, I'm guessing that it takes years to finish training. You should be lucky that we've done this much already. And now, it's almost supper time, and Larry wanted me to help him with the cooking, so--"  
  
Philip snorted a bit. "Oh, won't Dad be so pleased to find out? You know what he thinks of sissy activities like cooking--"  
  
Rolling her eyes, Amy said, "Hey, I don't really care. And why DOES he care if I cook, anyway? I mean, I am a girl. He just doesn't think MALES should cook because he thinks that WOMEN should--"  
  
"No, he doesn't think that any offspring of his should be feminine," cut in Philip. "Even female offspring."  
  
"Damn, is he sexist," mumbled Amy under her breath. "I'm going to the kitchen."  
  
She turned around sharply and power-walked out of sight. Philip stood behind, pondering it for a bit. "She has a point… why would Dad care if his daughter does 'feminine' things, anyway?"  
  
He scratched his head sadly. Amy was definitely not the type of person who could take orders from someone for very long. And neither was he, Philip thought to himself. Amy was someday soon going to break from the strain…and he probably would too. "And that's why we have to get out of here and be working on our own as soon as possible…" For balance, Philip leaned against the wall--the door.  
  
The door? Philip turned around and looked at the door in shock. He hadn't known that there was a door here. He flipped open the access pad and saw that a password was required. "I wonder whose room this is?" he thought to himself. "If I knew, then maybe I could guess the password. But since I don't…"  
  
Philip looked at the keypad, grinned playfully, and started punching buttons. "P… H… I… L… I… P… and for good measure, A… M… Y." He hit enter.  
  
"Damn!" he yelled in sudden realization. What if this one was guarded if you typed in the wrong password? And that definitely was…  
  
"Access approved," said a robotic voice. The door swung open.  
  
"What the… our NAMES are the password?" cried Philip in confusion. He flipped on a light and looked around the small room, almost a closet, and saw mostly boxes, some photo albums, a rocking horse…  
  
Philip gasped, feeling as though someone had punched him in the stomach. "That… that was MY rocking horse… Dad must have some of our old playthings and pictures of us as babies and he keeps them locked up here…" He stroked the horse's mane nostalgically.  
  
He sat down next to a pile of boxes and opened one up. Baby clothes, blankets, rattles, small plush animals… Philip turned around behind him and grabbed a photo album, flipping it open. It seemed to be one from when he and Amy were about four years old… they were having a picnic, Philip was smearing jelly in Amy's face and Amy was screaming…  
  
"Well, this proves what Amy and I always wondered about our parents… Dad remembered us, at least. I wonder if Mom does…"  
  
"This recipe looks tasty--"  
  
"Oh, no, definitely not that one!" cried Larry, dismissing it with a wave of his arm. "It's far too fattening."  
  
"Like you would care," muttered Amy, setting the cookbook aside. "You don't eat."  
  
Larry gave Amy an annoyed look. "How do you think your father has stayed in as good of shape as he has all this time? I've made sure I've been feeding him right!"  
  
"And I'm sure he thanks you," sighed Amy.  
  
At that moment, Buck barged in suddenly and loudly. "Hey, Lar, there's a light burned out in my second arsenal."  
  
Larry threw up his hands in dispair. "Why must I always help EVERYONE on this blasted space ship?" However, he grabbed a lightbulb and left the room.  
  
"Guess I'll cook supper by myself then," said Amy with a shrug.  
  
"Hold it!" cried Buck. "Only prissy robots do the cooking around here."  
  
Amy glared at her father. "You know, I happen to like cooking. Let me do it. You might be pleasantly surprised."  
  
"Oh no, I don't think so!" yelled Buck. "No child of mine is gonna be a sissy, panty-waist--"  
  
"I'm no child!" screamed Amy. And suddenly, with great force and rage, she grabbed an egg and smashed it right into Buck's face.  
  
"YUCK! GET IT OFF!"  
  
"I've had it." Amy stormed out of the kitchen, leaving her father to claw furiously at his face, vainly attempting to get the egg yolk off.  
  
Amy tore into the main control room and grabbed a large book with the words "Time Squad Directory" on the front. "Maybe Mom will be easier to handle," she muttered. She flipped to a page, quickly read what was clearly some sort of coordinate or address, and stepped into a transporter, vanishing quickly out of sight.  
  
"Officer Sternwell, here are those figures you requested."  
  
Sheila Sternwell took some papers from her robot XJ5's hands. "Thanks." She quickly skimmed the papers and punched some numbers in a calculator. "It seems that our work has been 34% more productive than last year--"  
  
A zap and a small shake interrupted her figuring. "Intruder," she muttered angrily, whipping out her laser.  
  
"We shall vaporize the intruder," said XJ5.  
  
The two spun around and aimed at the dark haired girl standing in the doorway. She grimaced at them.  
  
"So, are you going to shoot me, Mom?"  
  
Sheila lowered her gun in surprise. "Amy?"  
  
"Yep." Amy's hands instinctively moved to her hips. "I bet you forgot all about me."  
  
To Amy's surprise, Sheila suddenly tossed her laser aside. XJ5 looked confused… or as confused as he could look. "Officer Sternwell, who is this?"  
  
"This is my daughter," said Sheila shortly. "Amy, where's Philip?"  
  
"With Dad. I was with him too, but I couldn't put up with him anymore."  
  
"I'm not surprised," said Sheila with a dry chuckle. "Nor am I surprised that you two decided to become TS officers. Since you're here, why don't you help me with this figuring?"  
  
Amy bit her lip, utterly confused. After the initial shock, Sheila seemed totally unfazed of the fact that her daughter, whom she hadn't seen in more than twelve years, was with her.  
  
"So, Mom," said Amy, half attempting to make conversation and half wanting to know why she even existed, "why did you marry someone like Dad, anyway?"  
  
Sheila shrugged. "I'm not too sure about that one myself. We were young--I was twenty and your father was twenty-five. I thought I was in love, and I thought people in love never had any troubles."  
  
Amy blinked. Strange how her mother could talk about something like that in such an emotionless, expressionless voice.  
  
"And then, soon after, I got pregnant." Sheila wasn't trailing off nostalgically, she seemed to be telling Amy this only because she sensed that Amy wanted to know. "We hadn't specifically planned on having children when we married, but when we found out I was pregnant, we thought that a baby might be fun. And when I found out I was having twins, your father was of the opinion that two babies would be twice the fun. I, of course, knew that two would be twice the work."  
  
"One baby is enough of a hassle," pointed out Amy.  
  
Sheila nodded. "Philip came first, then you followed about eight minutes later. I had to start working part time to take care of you two."  
  
Amy laughed darkly. "Work part time? Why not just quit your job?"  
  
"I couldn't jeopardize my career just because I had children," said Sheila, as if it were obvious. Amy rolled her eyes; Sheila continued. "Your father rarely helped with taking care of you two. He only helped with the 'fun' stuff. We weren't really a good match, anyway. So we divorced."  
  
"And then, why did you become our guardian if you didn't want us?" asked Amy angrily.  
  
"Neither of us wanted you," said Sheila tactlessly. "We both wanted to get on with our lives and forget that we had ever been married. You and Philip would have just reminded us of something we would rather forget. The court just automatically assigned you two to me, since I was the mother and therefore, the more 'caring' one."  
  
"Yeah, you proved them wrong, didn't you," muttered Amy darkly.  
  
"Not that I wanted anything bad to happen to you," pointed out Sheila, still with the same emotionless voice. "But I couldn't keep you, so I thought for your own good, you should be adopted by someone who could."  
  
"And then you forgot about us."  
  
Sheila nodded. "For the most part."  
  
Amy winced and stared at the floor. "Jeez, the way you put it, I should never have been born."  
  
Shaking her head, Sheila said, "No, you shouldn't have."  
  
Amy exhaled sadly. Well. You wouldn't expect your own mother to agree with that statement, now would you? Obviously her father didn't care about her, and, while she certainly hadn't expected her mother to greet her with open arms, she had hoped that her mother was maybe a bit less severe than what she had remembered. But, of course, her memory was right… as always…  
  
(AN: I WISH I COULD THINK OF A TITLE! Oh, sorry… See you at the next chapter, whenever that may be… (evil laughter)) 


	7. Obadiah and NotSoFinal Goodbyes

(AN: Usually I wait until someone reviews to update… but since none of you did… (throws bomb at all of you) Heh. Well, figured I might as well end this story now anyway. Hope you liked it. Man, I wish I could think of a title for this…)  
  
"So who cooks around here?" Amy asked. She was laying lazily on a couch, her head draped off the side and hanging down.  
  
Sheila shrugged. "The robot, usually."  
  
"I could fix something up, if you wanted me too," said Amy. Sheila raised her eyebrow at Amy in mild surprise.  
  
"You cook?"  
  
Amy sighed. "You'd better not flip out over it like Dad did…"  
  
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!  
  
"Guess supper will have to wait," said Sheila, immediately striding over to the mission room. "Salem, Massachusetts, 1692. The year of the Salem Witch Trials, if I remember correctly."  
  
"Probably someone's going to be hung who shouldn't be," said Amy dryly. She wasn't in the best of moods… not like she usually was anyway. She looked at the man on the screen. "Who is that guy?"  
  
"I don't know," shrugged Sheila. "There's no name. But he's obviously important, so…"  
  
Sheila, Amy, and XJ5 got in their little transporter things and zapped off to Salem.  
  
"Well, I don't think I WILL!"  
  
Buck growled impatiently. "Look, Larry, I'm hungry--"  
  
"Then don't insult the chef," snapped Larry. "And you not only insulted ONE chef, you insulted BOTH of them."  
  
"Well then," huffed Buck, "I'll just find Amy and have her--"  
  
"Oh, sure!" interrupted Larry. "Like she's going to cook for you after the way you treated her!"  
  
"LARRY! TUDDRUSSEL!" Otto dashed into the room where Buck and Larry were arguing. "Amy's gone! I found this note from her!"  
  
Larry snatched the note out of Otto's hands. "Dear losers, I'm leaving you whiny ungrateful toads and going somewhere where I might actually be somewhat appreciated. Yours etc., Amy Tuddrussel." The robot folded the letter up and glared at Buck. "Well?"  
  
"Aaw man!" whined Buck. "Now who's gonna fix supper?"  
  
Throwing his arms up in the air in an exasperated way, Larry sighed and mumbled, "I give up."  
  
Suddenly Philip ran into the room, struggling to hold a large pile of photo albums, stuffed animals, blankets, and the like. "Dad! Why didn't you tell us that you had a storage room devoted entirely to me and Amy?"  
  
Larry and Otto blinked.  
  
"Sure, you had to give it away," muttered Buck.  
  
"Look at all this stuff!" cried Philip. "I haven't seen this stuff in years! And--" Philip dropped all of the items he was holding, grabbed a faded photo album, and flipped through it, finally finding a picture of him, his parents, and his sister, all siting on a couch, smiling and laughing. "And we were such a happy family, too! What happened?"  
  
"Well…" Buck shrugged in an ashamed manner. "Things… change…"  
  
"Yeah, well…" Philip's voice trailed off. "Where's Amy? She should see this."  
  
"I'll tell you where she is," mumbled Larry, handing Philip the note. Philip quickly read it.  
  
"Ungrateful toads?! I take offense at that!"  
  
Otto spoke up. "What do you think she meant by someone who might appreciate her more?"  
  
"Hmmm…" thought Philip. "I would almost say Mom, but no, she wouldn't…"  
  
"She's have to be outta her mind to go there," laughed Buck.  
  
"There's our guy," whispered Amy. She, her mother, and the robot where hiding in some bushes, watching the action. "It looks like he's about to get the noose."  
  
"I wonder why we have to save him," said Sheila dryly. "But I'm not one to go against assignments, so…"  
  
The three leapt out from their hiding place, pointing their lasers straight at the executioners. "You are in violation of--"  
  
Sheila was unable to finish her sentence, however. "Look at those women… the clothes they are wearing… they must be witches!" Before they could move, they were tied in strong ropes, rendering them helpless.  
  
"Well, now what?" asked Amy dryly.  
  
"Common occupational hazard," said Sheila nonchalantly. "I'll just have XJ5--"  
  
"And destroy that strange contraption!" yelled one of the Puritans. Grabbing a club, another one bashed the robot right in the head. He fell to the ground, completely deactivated.  
  
"Well, scratch that thought…" Sheila's voice uncharacteristically trailed off.  
  
"There's one thing I can do," said Amy. She jerked her head to a small band on her right wrist. "See that button on my wristband?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Can you reach it?"  
  
Both of Sheila's arms were tied tightly to her body down to the middle of her lower arm, but Sheila managed to reach over and, with great effort, push the button on Amy's wristband. "What did that do?"  
  
Amy grinned. "It's a distress communicator. Phil found them when we were twelve. If either one of us is separated and in danger, we just push that button and the other one of us knows exactly where we are."  
  
"I hope it says when we are too," said Sheila, strangely sounding a bit worried.  
  
Amy bit her lip. "Yes, me too…"  
  
Bzzzzzzzzzz…  
  
"What's that?" cried Otto, Larry, and Buck all at the same time.  
  
Philip looked at his wrist. "My distress communicator! Amy's in trouble!" He brought his wrist up to his face and read it. "And she's at… Salem, Massachusetts, 1692?"  
  
Otto gasped. "Maybe she's about to be hung!"  
  
"Well, we certainly can't have that!" cried Philip. "To Salem!"  
  
Larry ran ahead and set the coordinates. "But what on earth do you think she's doing there?" he asked.  
  
"I don't know, but we're going to find out," said Philip, a look of set determination on his face as the four of them zapped off.  
  
One of the Puritan executioners looked confused. "Which one doth we killest first?" he asked.  
  
Another one shrugged. "We startedeth with Obadiah, so praythee, let us finish that which we startedeth."  
  
Obadiah gulped.  
  
"I wish we knew what about him is so important," muttered Amy.  
  
A huge blast shook the earth.  
  
"What in heaven's name--" gasped the Puritans.  
  
Philip shoved his laser in one of their faces. "Unhand my sister!" He glanced at the captive 'witches'. "And, uh, my mother. Hi, Mom."  
  
"My, Philip, you certainly have grown," mused Sheila in an amused voice.  
  
"Yeah," said Buck, pointing his laser at another Puritan. "Unhand my daughter… and, uh, my ex-wife, or we'll have to pull out our BIGGER lasers."  
  
In a flash, Sheila and Amy were untied.  
  
"Hold it!" cried Otto. "What are you two doing here, anyway?"  
  
Amy shrugged. "I don't know. We were supposed to save that guy." She pointed to Obadiah.  
  
Otto strode up to the Puritan executioners. "Kind sirs, apparently by hanging this man, you are in violation of international and interdimentional law. And he isn't really a witch, only your over-active imaginations think so, along with everyone else you've hung."  
  
"Really?" asked the Puritans in shock.  
  
"Really," said Otto, nodding. "Now let him go."  
  
The Puritans untied Obadiah. With a leap of joy, he ran over and shook Philip's hand. "Thank ye, oh thank ye, kind sir! My fiancée will be so happy!"  
  
Philip looked at Amy and rolled his eyes. "Why did you have to save this guy?"  
  
Amy shrugged. "Perhaps he's the ancestor of someone who will make a great difference… What's your name, anyway?"  
  
"Obadiah. Obadiah Tuddrussel."  
  
Everyone stared.  
  
"Are you telling me…" Buck finally said, "that we just saved our own ten millionth or so great-grandfather?"  
  
Amy couldn't help but grin. "It would appear so." She shook Obadiah's hand. "My name is Amy Tuddrussel, and this is my brother Philip Tuddrussel, and my father Buck Tuddrussel."  
  
Larry blinked. "Well, that was… weird."  
  
"But mission accomplished, I take it," said Philip.  
  
"I'd assume, although I don't know for sure," said Sheila, looking at XJ5. "He's going to need some major repairs."  
  
Another earth shattering boom suddenly cut out any further conversation.  
  
Two top Time Squad officers stepped into view. "Philip and Amy Tuddrussel?" one asked.  
  
"Uh… here," said Philip, timidly raising his hand.  
  
"What is it, Officers?" asked Amy, trying to remain calm.  
  
"Excellent job on this mission," said the other officer. "Both of you have earned enough points to graduate and become fully fledged Time Squad officers."  
  
Philip and Amy looked at each other in shock. "Really?" they asked simultaneously.  
  
The first officer rolled his eyes. "Yes, really."  
  
The second handed the twins certificates and badges. "Good luck to you both… I hope you take on more of you mother's characteristics than your father's…"  
  
Philip faced everyone, pretending to wipe away a tear. With a voice dripping with emotion, he said, "I'd like to thank everyone who helped me get this far… especially my Mom and Dad… I love you guys!"  
  
Buck wiped away a REAL tear. "They grow up so fast!"  
  
"Aw, knock it off, you ham," said Amy, playfully pushing her brother aside.  
  
"You two need to come with us to fill out some papers, then we can get you situated," said the first.  
  
"Sounds great," said Philip, "but…"  
  
"…give us a few minutes…"  
  
"…to say some not so final but still important…"  
  
"…good-byes."  
  
Amy gave Larry a friendly hug. "Thanks for all the recipes, Lar."  
  
"I'm going to misssss yoooou!" sobbed Larry. "No one else has ever appreciated me like you did!"  
  
"Aaw, c'mon Lar, I appreciated you!" cried Philip, pulling Larry close in a tight buddy hug.  
  
"Aack!"  
  
Amy looked down at Otto. "But I bet you won't miss me at all, will you?"  
  
Otto shuffled his feet. "Actually…"  
  
"Just kidding." Amy hugged Otto. "Keep up all that knowledge of history, kid, it'll take you places!"  
  
"Yeah, like Salem, Massachusetts, 1692," laughed Philip. "I hate to leave ya, you were like my little brother!"  
  
Otto blinked. "Really? Yeah, I guess so!"  
  
"Next time I see ya… WRESTLING MATCH!"  
  
"All right!" cried Otto.  
  
Finally, Amy turned to her parents and gave them a stern look. "I certainly hope that you two learned something about responsible parenting," she said.  
  
Philip imitated his sister's harsh pose. "Yeah, me too, but I doubt you did."  
  
Sheila shrugged. "Well, what can I say, we have to be true to form."  
  
Buck sulked. "Aaw man, I'm gonna miss you guys… I actually did like your cooking, Amy."  
  
"Ha! I knew you did!" laughed Amy. "You probably liked shopping with me, too!"  
  
"I'm going to be honest--no."  
  
Philip popped up between his parents and put his arms around their shoulders. "Hey, cheer up, Mom and Dad! We'll come back to visit, right Amy?"  
  
"Of course," said Amy. "Like we said, this isn't a permanent goodbye."  
  
The Time Squad officers were tapping their feet impatiently. "Are you about done?"  
  
"Yeah, we're done," said Philip, walking away from his parents and towards the officers. "Bye, Mom and Dad! Love ya!"  
  
"Yeah, see you guys later," said Amy, giving one of her rare smiles and following her brother.  
  
"Goodbye… ancestors," said Obadiah, sounding confused. "I have no idea of what's going on…"  
  
ZAP! The four were suddenly gone.  
  
Sheila sighed. "Well, Buck, I'm going to need to go back with you to make some repairs on my robot."  
  
"Don't get too comfortable," growled Buck.  
  
"Oh, don't worry," said Sheila. "I'll be anxious to leave."  
  
"Well, things are normal again… almost…" Larry trailed off.  
  
"As normal as they will get, at least…" contemplated Otto.  
  
"Oh, by the way, Lar, what's for supper?" Buck asked as Larry was punching in coordinates on his arm.  
  
"TUDDRUSSEL!"  
  
ZAP!  
  
The… end.  
  
Thanks to everyone who has reviewed or who will reviewed! You rock! :) 


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